


Just Desserts

by missanotherboat



Category: Gilmore Girls, Gilmore Guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-02 00:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10933161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missanotherboat/pseuds/missanotherboat
Summary: No one knew why it had to happen. No one knew how it happened. Until now.





	Just Desserts

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to the fanfic challenge in the _Bunheads_ 1.16 episode of _Gilmore Guys_. I regret nothing.

A hush had fallen over Stars Hollow as the plan fell into place. Dexter wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve, and stared at the bookstore. Tony – his somewhat begrudging partner in crime – had just finished setting up assorted mini-golf courses on several roofs and was now digging through the bushes in front of the bookstore for a spare key. They had been promised a key by the Employer, but it was never produced. Thinking fast, Dexter took off his shirt, wrapped it around his fist, and smashed a window.

“What?” he asked. “The show must go on.”

At this point, it seemed to be the only show that was going on. They had already been filming for a week when it was announced that production would be stalled thanks to the media attention caused by Susan Sarandon’s on-set trysts with a much younger man. The man’s identity, thankfully, had not leaked. Though Dexter didn’t plan to confess any time, he and Tony knew they couldn’t let the excursion be a dry run.

That’s where the Employer entered the picture. Each time they met with him, his face was obscured by a massive top hat, and though he never once told them his name or his intentions, he was incredibly wealthy and his plans seemed simple enough.

Tony orchestrated the effects – he gained a lot of tech experience while rehearsing for the role of Billy in NBC’s live production of _Billy Elliot: The Musical_ – with Dexter doing much of the grunt work. Dexter double-checked the wires leading out of the bookstore and into the fog machine. The time had come for the finishing touch.

“This is gonna work great!” Dexter remarked, stroking the bird’s dark feathers with his (ever-so-nimble) fingers.

Tony sighed, pirouetting where he stood to assuage his nervousness. “How can you know that when we don’t know what we’re trying to achieve?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Dexter gestured broadly to their work. “They’re just trying to gaslight some girl.”

Tony froze. “What?”

Dexter pulled a protein bar out of his pocket and started eating it. “Probably a girlfriend. Possibly one whose unstable home life and unresolved psychological issues have left her susceptible to manipulation by men in positions of power.”

Tony looked Dexter in the eye. “And you’re okay with that?”

Dexter shook his head quickly. “No. I just need to be able to eat when I get home, man. Performance art doesn’t pay the bills.”

Dexter could see Tony formulating a plan, but it was only two minutes until things were set to begin. “Well, there’s nothing we can do now,” Dexter sighed. He placed the crow in the tree. Dejectedly, they walked away.

“Squawk! I’m sorry, Tony!” said the crow suddenly.

“Did…did you program it to say that?” Tony asked.

Dexter once again shook his head. “No, man. Let’s get out of here.” 

* * *

 

One month later, Tony stood outside a battered doorway. He wore a sleeveless hoodie and gray sweatpants over his leotard, tapping his foot to a rhythm only he could feel – the rhythm of life. After a few minutes, he was escorted into the room by a pleasant, if hardboiled, gentleman.

Inside, a woman behind the desk was tapping fingertips together expectedly. “Muharrar,” she said and pointed to the man. “That’s Epstein. What do you need?”

Tony laughed nervously. “I didn’t know if the police would believe me.”

Epstein chuckled. “Why? Is it an unbelievable story?”

“You don’t even know the half of it.”

Muharrar leaned forward. “I don’t want the half of it. Give me 100% or nothing, ballet boy.”

Tony launched into the tale, recounting the horrors of the night in question. He told them about the crow, the theft in the market, the counterfeit money they found inside. He told them about the fear in the woman’s eyes as she walked through the town, and the sinister smile the Employer wore as he sweet-talked her. Finally, he told them about the confrontation in the city after he and his partner weren’t compensated for their work. The Employer – Huntzberger, he was called – had threatened them with a sword he pulled from his desk and told them that if they ever returned he would kill them both.

The detectives listened to the spiel intently, and Muharrar spoke up when he had finished. “This partner you mentioned. Where is he?”

Tony looked down solemnly. “Witness protection. Used to be Dexter Schmid. Now I don’t know.”

Epstein nodded. “We’ll do our best to find him. But what’s your goal here?”

Tony smiled. “I wanna overthrow the bureaucracy.”

The detectives matched his smile with smirks of their own. “I like your style, kid,” said Muharrar.

“Thanks, detective.”

“Call me Aisha. And this is Ben.” 

* * *

 

It was nearly a year before Tony heard from them again.

He hadn’t quite acclimated to the California weather, but he enjoyed the way the sun filtered through the half-open blinds in the local theater. He’d tried to keep a low-profile, but his need to dance was too great to ignore.

The call came in the middle of a rehearsals, and he knew who it was as soon as he saw “Unknown Number” flash across his screen. He ran off stage. “Hello?”

The woman didn’t greet him. “We’ve found him.”

Tony exhaled nervously. This was it. “You have?”

“He’s in Massachusetts. Nantucket.”

“And what about the Employer?” Tony asked, voice shaking.

“We’ve reached a new frontier there, too. But we’ll need both of you together. Can you find him yourself?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” Tony said. He ended the call and rushed to the stage door.

A bubbly blonde woman caught up with him. “Where are you going?” she asked. There was no malice in her voice – only confusion.

“I have to leave.” Tony was looking at her, but his eyes kept darting to the door. “We always knew this wasn’t forever.”

She traced a thumb over his cheek. “I know. Forever usually isn’t this short.”

Tony smiled. “And Paradise usually isn’t this lovely.” He leaned forward, kissing her once on the cheek. “So long, Jenny.”

He didn’t look back as he rushed to the airport and boarded a flight. That time was over. Now there was only the future. Now there was only justice. 

* * *

 

Dexter hadn’t expected to like gardening, but he did. There was something comforting about being able to feel responsible for something good…especially after that night. He needed to know he was doing something to improve the world, or at least leave it the same as before. He was tired of damaging it.

He had established a routine – wake up, eat breakfast, work on the plants out back, have lunch, work on the flowers, and then join Mrs. Gilmore for a lemonade on the patio. There was the occasional divergence from this plan – sometimes it was tea, and sometimes they did a little more than sip refreshing drinks in the Nantucket breeze.

The one divergence he hadn’t expected, however, was Tony appearing. He stood up, putting his lemonade glass on the table. Emily was still explaining the proper way the strip a shark of its flesh when he remarked, open-mouthed, “It can’t be.”

Tony walked over to the patio. “It is.”

Emily gawked. “Who is this?”

“Tony. An old friend of mine.” Dexter smiled.

Emily nodded. “I figured. How did he get over the gate?”

Dexter laughed. “Just as graceful as I remember, eh, Tony?”

Tony gave a demi plie and took a bow.

“That doesn’t answer my – ” Emily started.

Tony cut her off. “I need you, Dexter.”

Dexter placed his hand on his heart, choked up. “I need you, too, buddy.”

Tony shook his head. “No, I need you to come with me.” He reached for Dexter’s hand. “We have to take down Huntzberger.”

Emily started asking if they meant Logan Huntzberger, asking Dexter how he knew him, and wondering what they were planning on doing, but Dexter had already jumped down and started running away with Tony. “Be back soon, Mrs. Gilmore!”

Emily sighed. “Douchebags.” 

* * *

 

“He was married to Odette, but had been wiring significant amounts of money to an inn in Stars Hollow…an inn where he hasn’t been staying. Around the same time the payments started, the innkeeper’s daughter started making OB/GYN appointments.”

In the office of Muharrar and Epstein, Dexter and Tony sat stunned. Aisha had just finished giving them the lowdown on everything she’d found out about Huntzberger in the last few months.

Dexter spoke up. “So what are you saying?”

“That this is more than a coincidence. Huntzberger and the daughter – Rory – used to date,” Ben responded, crossing his arms in the corner of the office.

Tony saw a flash of the night in question.

_“Get ready, Rory.”_

“Rory…” he said. “That was the woman. That night.”

Dexter buried his head in his hands. “That bastard. He played her. He played his wife. He played all of us. We have to take him down.”

There was knock at the door. Everyone turned to see two new faces walking in. The first was a determined-looking woman, carrying a sizable notebook. The pink at the ends of her hair had faded, leaving only the impression of rebellion in her demeanor.

The second was a man of similar determination, holding a laptop and looking as though he would fit in with the cast of a 90s teen drama. He had a face that suggested beautiful promises and empty realities. Tony thought this was appropriate, since the entire situation they were in was built on empty promises and badly-executed plans.

The woman greeted Aisha and introduced herself to Dexter and Tony.

“I’m Sarah. Journalist.”

“Are you a real journalist?” asked Tony.

Sarah looked confused. “I think so. What’s a fake journalist?”

Aisha sighed. “If there’s one thing I’ve found out during this investigation, it’s that calling yourself a journalist doesn’t mean anything if you can’t write.”

“Anyway,” said the man, “I’m Anthony. Resident hacker and disseminator of information.”

Dexter chuckled. “Disseminator.”

Ben sat down beside Aisha. “You said you wanted to take him down,” he said.

“So this is how we do it,” finished Aisha, gesturing to the group they had assembled. “All you have to do it say the word. He leaks the affair to the press. She controls the narrative. You watch the dominoes fall.”

Dexter and Tony locked eyes, and Dexter gave a slight nod.

“Let’s watch him burn,” said Tony.

Sarah and Anthony set to work blowing up the story. By noon, every newspaper and blog in Connecticut had picked up the story. _Local Businessman Exposed_ , said a paper in Hartford for the sixth time that month (only one of the previous stories involved affairs – the others had all been about photo leaks).

Ben streamed live news coverage on his phone. “LIVE FROM NANTUCKET – SEARCHING FOR GRANDMA OF BUSINESS BABY MAMA,” said bold text overlaid on video of a maid cleaning a vibrant white gate. Reporters bombarded her with questions, flashing cameras glinting off her round glasses. She tried to answer them in a strange mixture of Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, and Italian, but eventually ran off.

Aisha watched confusedly. “Is that a real language?”

Ben shrugged. “Another investigation for another time.”

Dexter and Tony were silent, wanting to leave the office but fearing for themselves as the world around them fell apart. Aisha looked up from the screen. “We’ve laid the groundwork, but this is only going to work if we attack him from every angle. Neither of you ever got paid that night, correct?”

They shook their heads. “Not a dime,” said Dexter bitterly.

“Do you have a lawyer?” asked Ben.

They shook their heads again, and Aisha produced a business card from her desk. “Call this guy. We’ve worked with him before. He’ll help you out.”

Dexter and Tony stood and shook everyone’s hands, thanking them for their work. As they headed toward the door, Aisha called after them. “Don’t give up, boys. You’ve got this.”

Outside the office, Dexter called the number on the business card while Tony tapped beside him. Dexter tapped his foot out of rhythm until someone picked up the phone. “How may I help you?” said a deep voice on the other end of the line.

“I’m looking for a lawyer,” said Dexter.

“I’m Robert Castellanos, attorney at law. How can I help you?” 

* * *

 

Tony and Dexter were finally at peace now that things had begun to work themselves out. In the trees above, however, a crow rested on a branch. It wore a tiny top hat covered in lace and ribbons. It opened its mouth, rusty hinges creaking. “Squawk!” it called. “Get ready, boys. Next stop: Wyoming.” Its eyes glowed red.

Somewhere, in a private office in Connecticut, the eyes of Logan Huntzberger did the same.


End file.
